Green Eyes
by InterestingGirl
Summary: Bruce meets someone really interesting in Calcutta. What happens when he meets her again, this time on the helicarrier? She's S.H.I.E.L.D new therapist! He can manage his anger just fine, but he can't stop himself from going for his 'therapy' sessions. A humorous take on the hot and sweet side of our favorite scientist. Bruce/OC
1. French Fries

Bruce Banner loved the frozen foods aisle.

Not because he was a sucker for packaged peas or ready-to-eat Spring rolls. He didn't enjoy the frozen Indian Snacks there- the 'paneer tikka' or 'aloo' patty.

It was just so nice and cold. A welcome respite from the heat that surrounded him, outside and within. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D should build him a huge refrigerator, he thought, as he pushed his wobbly shopping cart in the frozen foods aisle of Calcutta's largest departmental grocery store. Maybe the icy coolness could solve his little green problem, he thought, and chuckled.

Calcutta was a mess, but it felt like his mess. He looked around him and saw two excited shoppers rushing through, muttering something about Pepsi. He remained at his favourite spot, pretending to read the label of the frozen curry in his hand. He smiled to himself thinking of all the gleaming, luxurious hotels he had stayed in the State-of-the art lab he once worked in. He had grown so used to this current location that all those comforts seemed to be from a previous life.

He looked up from his curry packet and saw a woman standing next to him, trying to reach a box of frozen french fries. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a pink tunic with a peacock embroidered on it. Her arm stretched out to the top aisle, partially covering her face from his view. She seemed too fair, too rosy to be from Calcutta, where the harsh sun caused a bronze complexion. She wasn't pale, nor did she have that redness that most tourists did when they experienced the heat. Her attire was similarly confusing. Skinny jeans were a western staple, while the tunic looked native. Who was she?

Realizing that he was holding the same packet of frozen curry, he hurriedly dumped it in his cart and moved towards her, pretending to look for french fries too. She had managed to get hers, and her head was bent as she read the label on the packet. Her hair were falling over her face and Bruce noticed how long they were. Waist length, almost. And their mocha colour suddenly made him a crave of a cup of coffee, steaming, with cream and…..

She looked up at him.

Green eyes, so clear, they seemed to glow. For a minute, Bruce stopped thinking.

'Hi! Another fan of the french fries?' she said,grinning and waving her packet of french fries at him. Bruce smiled in response. At least he hoped he was smiling and not leering, as he suspected he was very close to doing. Maybe he should say something.

'Actually, I haven't ever tried it. Any good?'

She laughed and said, 'An American who lives in India, and doesn't depend of frozen french fries for nutrition? Impressive'

Was she flirting with him? He really didn't want to overanalyze and embarrass himself.'How do you know I'm American?'

'Elementary, my dear Watson. Your accent'

Bruce was a little taken aback. He thought he didn't have one anymore. Surprisingly, this mysterious girl was able to pick it up from his english so casually, and despite his 'adventures' all over the world, he couldn't identify her accent. She could have been from anywhere.

'You caught me. Where are you from?' Bruce tried not to show how curious he was for the answer.

Suddenly, he heard some music. And, since it didn't sound like violins, he suspected it wasn't just in his head. Was it some rock song? Led Zeppelin?

The girl reached into her pocket, looking embarrassed, and pulled out her ringing cell phone. Her cheeks were looking even more rosy by her slight blush. Was it embarrassment over her choice of ringtone, surprise over the call, or something else?

'WHAT? No, Phil, you know weddings are big deal with my family. No, you- Its not like it is with everybody. Believe me, you don't know what torture I will have to face it I miss the wedding of my- Phil, its my first vacation in ages! What is the rush- ok, no need to be sarcastic. I'll try to fly out tomorr- Fine, today- No, not immediately. I need to say bye and pack some important things. That's the the final deal, Phil. Cool, then, see you on the super secret helicarri-Ok, I won't say it out loud. Bye.'

Bruce heard every word she spoke and again tried, unsuccessfully, to identify her accent. And without realizing it, he fervently prayed 'Phil' wasn't her boyfriend.

'Sorry about that! It was my boss' she said (and Bruce let out a sigh of relief)

'I have to return to my job earlier than expected so, I gotta go. BTW, What's your name?'

Bruce was still processing her sudden words and responded automatically,'Bruce'.

'It was really nice to meet you! Enjoy your french fries, Bruce from America!' And before he could stop her, she broke into a sprint and vanished from the store. Bruce was left standing next to her abandoned shopping cart. He looked at his hand and realized that it was numb from holding the packet of frozen french fries. His mind was similarly numb. He cursed himself, wishing he had stopped her somehow, finished their conversation. That girl- How could he not ask her name?- left him with so many questions. Who was she? Where was she from? How did she know so much about accents? Was that really Led Zeppelin playing as her ringtone? Why was he so intrigued by her? And her eyes..

Where had he seen that shade of green before?

* * *

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	2. Twitchy

Bruce Banner hated all planes, aircrafts, ships and submarines. And now he had a new addition to the list. The Helicarrier.

It was his own personal nightmare. Even with years of practice of keeping his temper in check, he knew that he was putting everyone on the vessel at risk by his very presence. It was hard enough avoiding stress in Calcutta, even where he was anonymous and accepted. Here, the world was literally at risk, and everyone seemed to be fearfully avoiding him. The irony was that S.H.I.E.L.D's agents, who got him here in the first place, seemed to be the most twitchy about him.

Even Natasha, who 'persuaded' him to join the mission, and locate the Tesseract for S.H.I.E.L.D, seemed to tread carefully around him. And the hint of fear was ever present. Didn't they realize that their attitude really bothered him? Did they want the other guy on the loose?

Bruce sighed. He was being too harsh with them. He could hardly expect them to frolic around him and kiss him goodnight. He had hardly begun to accept himself, then how could he expect them to accept him?

Instead of focusing on annoying thoughts like these, he decided to throw himself into his work. And it wasn't tough. Work had always been fun. Well, except the time it had turned him green and destructive. But otherwise, his work helped relax him, and he knew that the sooner he finished, the faster he got out of here. He just hoped everyone on the helicarrier survived to see that day.

* * *

'Therapy? You're joking, right?'

'Studies have proved that even one session per week can bring significant reductions in stress levels-' Natasha started to explain calmly, but Bruce cut her off.

'How many of those studies are structured around people like me, Agent Romanoff? Let me answer that- none.' 'Dr Banner, I know it makes you uncomfortable to lose your privacy but-'

'Its not about privacy, Agent', Bruce sighed. 'Its about the fact that no therapist is able to stay calm and objective with me. How can they? One wrong word and BAM! My anger is not something anyone can take lightly, no matter how professional they are.' Bruce didn't add that talking to another Nervous Nelly would be the last straw to his precarious control.

'What if the therapist doesn't know?' Natasha asked.

'Doesn't know what?' Bruce asked cautiously, his interest piqued.

'What if the therapist doesn't know anything about your history or your little green problem, Doc?' Natasha was almost grinning. Almost. 'How would you like an hour of total anonymity, where you can talk about whatever you want, without fear of impending disaster?'

Bruce was.. surprised. This was not something he had expected. Normal human conversation? (Though it was debatable how human he was anymore) It sounded too good to be true. Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D, it probably wasn't that straightforward. Maybe there was a hidden clause, about him giving out samples of his blood or spit for research or something.

'Why?' Bruce asked. 'Whats in it for you?'

'Keeping the helicarrier in one piece.' Natasha replied, slight smile in place. She was even batting her eyelashes.

Bruce knew she was trying to charm him into agreeing. Natasha Romanoff wasn't the flirty and smiley sort. Was Fury so worried about the other guy that he had to send the Black Widow to persuade him, again? Would everyone sleep better if he was doing therapy?

'So my therapist would know nothing beforehand?' Bruce asked. He could almost hear Natasha's internal sigh of relief.

'Nothing, not even your name. Everything would be up to you. You decide what you want to reveal about yourself, and when. No recording or transcripts of the sessions will be created by S.H.I.E.L.D. No interference in any manner. You can go and play monopoly for an hour everyday, as long as it calms you.'

Bruce thought about it. Ever since the accident, he hadn't had the chance to be himself- just himself- without feeling like a monster or an outcast. Even in Calcutta, there was no one- _almost_ no one, he amended- with whom he felt like himself. He knew what his answer was going to be.

'Fine, its a deal. But if I kill the therapist because of anything he says, don't say I didn't warn anyone.' Bruce added darkly.

'Don't worry Doc. Your therapist is very perceptive. Your secret won't stay hidden for long.' Bruce opened his mouth to interrupt, but before he could, Natasha winked at him and added, ' And Doc, I believe your therapist is a she.'

* * *

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	3. Faint

Bruce couldn't concentrate.

A entire day had gone by since Natasha got him to sign up for therapy. But that was all Bruce could think about. He tried to focus on the percentage bar filling up on his screen, but couldn't. Hell, it was bad enough that he had to spend an hour everyday with a shrink. But a woman shrink? He couldn't remember what he was thinking when he had agreed to that.

Never negotiate with a spy.

He was very apprehensive, but also felt a bit curious. He was a scientist, after all. Who was this woman, who agreed to work for an organisation like S.H.I.E.L.D? What did it feel like to hold everyone's secrets within a secret organisation? Was she a spy too? Nah. Spies couldn't help others relax. They had a vague sense of.. tension around them. His therapist would probably be motherly and plump, with her knitting in her lap. But she must be a tough lady, he thought. If she knows what haunts secret agents, she must have a spine of steel.

He had just finished his sixth cup of green tea (coffee didn't suit his temperament) when an agent entered the lab. 'Good M-m-morning, Mister Banner. I mean, Doctor! Doctor Banner!'

Bruce suppressed a groan. Another one of the quaking-in-their-boots-brigade. Bruce read his nametag. Agent Gunthur.

'If it ok with- if you are free, Dr Banner, I'm supposed to take you to your session.'

'Lead the way, Agent.'

* * *

The therapist's office was in the farthest corner of the entire ship. The only other rooms in the corridor were empty storage rooms, full of dusty, dumped desks and chairs. Bruce wondered if that was for his benefit. Best to limit the destruction to a remote area in case the other guy was unleashed. Good plan, for everyone except the unsuspecting lady on the other side of the door.

'Don't worry, Dr Banner. We have done everything you requested for. She doesn't know anything about you. I have personally handled your privacy issue, and I can assure you that everything, even your name is a complete and total secret.' Agent Gunthur was rambling. Ignoring him, Bruce took deep breaths and relaxed his muscles. The agent knocked and entered the office without waiting for an answer. Bruce followed him inside.

The room was cheerful, painted yellow, posters plastered on most of the walls. The usual therapist's couch was missing. Instead, two red bean bags sat facing a 48-inch television screen. A sofa, a small coffee table and a bookcase were placed in one corner. There was a huge, oriental desk at the back of the office, with books, files and photos scattered on it. A lady stood behind it. She wasn't motherly, she wasn't plump.

She had green eyes.

'Bruce? Bruce from America? What are you doing here!'

Before Bruce could could answer, there was a thudding sound next to him. Agent Gunthur had fainted.

* * *

'Wake up now, all the way' Bruce said, slapping Agent Gunthur's face again, and sprinkling some water on the panic-struck man.

Agent Gunthur was stirring, muttering something about 'I didn't tell her' and 'Please don't be angry.' Bruce suppressed a laugh. Apparently, his privacy agreement was taken very seriously here.

He thought of his young therapist and felt closer to laughter. He couldn't believe his luck. He meets a mysterious woman he can't stop thinking about and fate drops her right into his lap. Or rather drops him into hers. He pressed his lips together to prevent a laugh from spilling out.

_She_ was a therapist? He still couldn't believe it. He snuck a peek at her, as she was looked worriedly at Agent Gunthur. How was he supposed to be objective and controlled if it was her he was talking to? Bruce remembered the day he met her, and how she was suddenly called to work. If it was S.H.I.E.L.D she worked for, it wasn't a shock that she put work ahead of the wedding of her- cousin? Friend? He couldn't remember. Again, he found himself wishing he knew her name. Before he could ask her, the unconscious agent sat up.

'I'm fine, just got a bit dizzy, doctor.' He looked very embarrassed. But surprisingly, it wasn't Bruce he was looking at. It was the other doctor in the room. The agent gazed at the lovely lady with a expression close to worship. Bruce realized why Agent Gunthur agreed to this assignment despite his obvious fear of the other guy.

Agent Gunthur stood up, aimed a weak smile at the therapist- Was nobody going to reveal her name!- and quickly walked out of the room without meeting Bruce's eyes. Suddenly, Bruce felt slightly nervous. It was only him and her now.

'So you are the Mystery guest everyone was zipped up about!' She smiled at Bruce conspiratorially. Bruce's mouth went dry. He wondered how he was going to survive the hour if she continued to smile at him like that.

'By the way, I'm Maya.'

* * *

A review a day keeps Doctor Bruce at play! ;-p

Next Chapter: Maya's POV


	4. Crack

Maya loved a challenge.

As a therapist, pushy or aggressive people were interesting puzzles. Even people who remain silent about their lives or lied when faced with difficult questions were full of mystery. But, her favourite kind of challenge was different.

Quiet confidence.

And that was exactly what this man had. He was secretive, but made no attempt to hide behind lies. Obviously, he had some pull around here- Agents didn't bother to look up at you sometimes, and he just made one faint- but he didn't have even a hint of arrogance. His confidence was totally un-flashy.

Her brief encounter with him in Calcutta made her even more curious. There, she had been very interested in him- not romantically, she tried telling herself- but because he was an interesting sort of guy. But his presence- and status- at the helicarrier made it obvious that he wasn't just some cute guy she noticed. And that he hadn't been in Calcutta for a vacation. What had he been doing in India? Was he an agent? A soldier? A bureaucrat? She quickly ruled out those possibilities. He wouldn't be shopping at a grocery store if he was at such a high risk job. But what other job causes such a sudden change in location? She laughed to herself. She was one to ask, with her own residential status in permanent limbo.

She knew that her job was unique. Even a normal therapist finds it difficult to cope with other people's stress. And she handled the mind-numbingly complex issues of people working for S.H.I.E.L.D. She often wondered why she was offered this job. S.H.I.E.L.D must have found out everything about her before giving her an offer. Her academic record, her previous clients,her personal life- especially her background- must be known to them. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if they followed her everywhere for a year before trusting her. And it was surprising that they chose her. What was even more surprising was that she accepted their offer. But she enjoyed this most people, S.H.I.E.L.D's secrecy and tension-filled atmosphere didn't bother her at all. And she had handled several tricky cases with ease.

Agent Gunthur's brief about her latest assignment had been short. She wasn't going to be told anything about her guest, as per his explicit request. She shouldn't surprise him, push him, yell at him or even poke him unexpectedly, if she valued her life. Hearing his words, Maya had painted a picture of a boring, stiff war veteran, with a big belly and a bigger ego. But instead, it was this man, who was young and normal.

And ridiculously attractive.

Suddenly, being called to work in the middle of her vacation didn't seem so bad.

* * *

'So, Bruce, make yourself comfortable.'

Maya watched him carefully. Where a man- a person- chose to sit said a lot about him. The bean bag sitters were fun loving and adventurous, a sofa preference indicated a serious, academic type, the one who sat on the swivel chair across the desk were the ones who didn't want to be here. Maya pegged him for the swivel chair sort.

He looked around at the array of seats. Subtlely wrinkling his nose at the uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, he sat down on the bean bag.

Maya smiled. Who would have thought the serious looking man would surprise her so often? Well, now it was her turn to surprise sat down on a bean bag next to his. "So what's this I hear about you?" she asked him without preamble.

"What did you hear about me?" asked Bruce, looking panicked.

Maya laughed. "Nothing. That's the thing."

He relaxed at her words and gave a nervous chuckle. That was Maya's first clue. His secrets were personal. He wouldn't be nervous himself if someone else had revealed some national secret to her. Perhaps his secret made him self-conscious too. Some mistake he made in his previous assignment?

Bruce cleared his throat and started to speak."I'm sorry for the elaborate secrecy. I know it seems very pretentious, but its really for your own good. Not knowing anything-"he paused and amended-"Not knowing much about me will be helpful to your professional objectivity."

Maya listened to him and sighed inwardly. Every patient thought withholding information was for the therapist's good. How was she supposed to help anyone when they didn't talk about what was up with them? Its not like she didn't know people were capable of doing crap. One of her patients was a Secret Agent, who had fallen in love with Director Fury. A male Secret Agent. If she could keep her objectivity after that, there wasn't anything that could shake her.

"I totally agree with you, Bruce. You shouldn't tell me anything that would come in the way of my professionalism. I wish everyone was accommodating.'

"Thank you" he said, seeming very glad about her agreement. Little did he know, she planned to smother him with his need for silence.

"So, wanna watch The Sound of music?" she asked him.

'What?" His adorably confused face was making her giggle. She continued innocently-"The Sound of Music, you know, the old Julie Andrews movie? Do you want to watch it?" Bruce looked at her like she had suggested they braid each others hair. "But wha-why are we watching a movie now?"

Maya's replied without missing a beat."Movies are a great way to relax. The best kind of therapy. Plus, this way, you won't have to talk about anything at all." She was grinning internally."It's perfect for all your needs."

"But I-" Bruce started to say, but she cheerfully cut him off "Oh no, don't worry, I won't bother you at all. You just relax in peace"

Quickly, she turned on the huge TV and put on the movie, while Bruce was still trying to figure out why he got a silent reprieve. The movie started with a song. Maya looked at her watch. 3.07 pm

She estimated he would crack in fifteen minutes.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all the love! Nearly a 1000 hits! Special thanks to missy126, LadyShadows410, Madame Tango, Applejax XD, Sandy-wmd, Graveofthefireflies, Monica and all the Guest reviewers :-D

How do you like Maya? She's more fiesty than Bruce.

Don't worry, Bruce is gonna be back. Or do you prefer Maya's POV? Please post your opinions and reviews ;-)


	5. On His Toes

Bruce was loving it. The movie was peaceful. He was totally getting de-stressed. He felt it was a brilliant idea.

That feeling lasted for fifteen minutes.

Then Bruce was dying.

The movie was excruciatingly positive. And in the chaos of his mind, every song was grating. Here he was, sitting two feet away from his gorgeous therapist, and instead of chatting her up, or making an embarrassing effort to flirt with her, he was watching a 60s movie.

If only it were a date.

But alas, his own terms had bound him. His 'Nothing personal' clause had come back to bite him in the ass. Of course, when he had agreed to the brilliant plan, he hadn't expected his therapist to be this woma- Maya. He knew her name now. Thank god she wasn't just 'the woman who he met in calcutta' or 'the woman he was starting to think about too much' now. There was a name to go with her face in his thoughts.

He wished he wasn't attracted to her. It would have been so simple if she were just an ordinary therapist. He would have still been enjoying watching the movie. There would have been no tension in him. And he wouldn't be wishing they were watching a horror movie, so that she would cling to him when the she got scared. He snuck a peek at her. She didn't look like a clinger. He sighed to himself. She would surely make a good one.

Soon, Bruce's focus shifted away completely from the movie, and onto Maya.

How relaxed she was. Here he was trying to figure out a way to talk to her, and she was busy enjoying the movie! Huh. He had expected S.H.I.E.L.D to hire the best. And she wasn't really doing anything about his 'problems'. Shouldn't she be grilling him about everything she could? Identity-revealing questions were banned, but she could get him to talk about something. She hadn't even tried. All she had managed to do in so much time was bore him and..

And make him want to talk about himself.

Bruce almost chuckled aloud. She really was sneaky. He wasn't dealing with an ordinary therapist. Well, S.H.I.E.L.D does hire the best. And he wasn't too bad himself. He knew exactly how to handle this situation.

Time for a nap.

* * *

Maya was fuming.

It was all going so well! Bruce was confused, the movie was slow, and she wasn't paying any attention to him (despite wanting to a lot). And then, he showed classic signs of frustration when fifteen minutes were up. He fidgeted, looked at her a couple of times and it seemed like he was going to start talking.

But then he fell asleep.

What was happening? Was the movie she selected too boring? Nah, she thought. 'The Sound of Music' wasn't going to put anyone to sleep. And Bruce didn't seem too relaxed or sleepy when he came. So how did he conk off? She felt like shaking his broad shoulders and waking him up immediately. Wait a minute…

His toes wriggled!

He was pretending to sleep! That deceptive handsome little fiend! Was he avoiding her? No, that didn't make sense. He didn't even know she was looking at him. But why else would he feint sleep? He didn't even have to do anything in the session. He just had to sit and watch the movie. Of course, he was eventually supposed to break down, get frustrated and start talking to her.

Could it be just that? Was he pretending to sleep to avoid the temptation of talking to her? He could have done that even with his eyes open! There was no need to frustrate her…

Oh god. He was playing _her_ trick on her. She was impressed despite herself. This had to be a therapy record. No one had tried this on her before.

Well, she loved a challenge.

He was her biggest one yet.

* * *

Bruce's back was hurting. Sleeping on a bean bag wasn't comfortable. Or pretending to sleep, anyways.

His right foot was itching. But he couldn't scratch it. Not a new feeling for him this week, he thought wryly.

It seemed like Maya had neatly fallen for his trick. She didn't seem suspicious. She didn't try to make any sudden noises to surprise him, or doubt whether he was sleeping in any manner. Bruce wished he could have seen her expression when she realised he was asleep. Sigh. He wished he could see her, period. But sneeking a peek would have been too risky.

He laughed to himself. If her theory was as effective on her as it was on him, then she would be the one who was going to wake him up and start talking soon.

It had been a long time, though. Why wasn't she waking him up? Did his trick work too well? Was she letting him sleep?

Carefully, he opened his eyes the tiniest bit and looked in her direction. Her bean bag was empty. Instead, she was sitting on the floor, near his feet and looking right at him. And from that angle, his slightly open eyes were totally visible to her. He stiffened guiltily.

Maya burst out laughing.

* * *

Maya couldn't stop herself from laughing hysterically when Bruce opened his eyes. He was so cute! She knew she must seem unprofessional, and unladylike, from the way she was sprawled on the floor, giggling, but she couldn't stop.

Bruce was blushing! He was so adorable. She guessed he wasn't used to being caught red-handed. He didn't even try to justify himself! He just gave a guilty smile. It made her want to..

She checked her thoughts. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she took a deep breath and calmed herself. Bruce got off his bean bag and sat across her on the floor. And 'I thought I was doing such a good fake nap' he said, grinning. She replied with a similar grin.

'Oh, you were really good. But your toes don't act as well as you'

A/N: Thank you for the reading! I am dying to read your thoughts on this :-)


	6. Music

Bruce couldn't believe it.

The session was over. And he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. It was such a sharp U-turn from the usual state of affairs that the entire episode seemed to be a part of a dream. A vivid dream. A really vivid, beautiful dream.

And he knew with whom the credit lay. Maya. She wasn't like any other girl- that is, therapist- he knew. Despite her clever tactics to make him talk, she didn't seem to want to pressure him at all. She truly respected his need for privacy, though his request must have seemed absurd. And she didn't judge him on a stereotype. For the longest time, people had identified him with the Other guy. Before the accident, he was just the super smart Dr Banner. Even in Calcutta, he was the anonymous foreigner medic. It was a nice change to be Bruce. Just Bruce.

He actually felt like a normal guy with her. He felt charming and witty, and even when she laughed at his 'sleeping' antics, she didn't make him feel like a fool. They had spent the remaining session sitting on the floor, joking and playing an assortment of games on her playstation. He enjoyed most of them, though the karaoke singing had left him a little red in the face.

He returned to his lab after the session and quickly ran the final tests and simulations for the day. Though he was nowhere close to finishing his work, he didn't have the same nervous tension anymore. He couldn't believe everything worked out so well. And he was feeling so good.

New thoughts entered his mind as he walked back to his room in the east wing dormitories (which were almost unoccupied except for his room. Shocking. Not). Was Maya's attractiveness a part of the therapy? Did all her male patients fall so hard for her, or was it just him? She seemed really sincere, but was she just tolerating him? Was he just another eclectic, bothersome mister who she was supposed to humour?

Bruce knew he shouldn't complain. If S.H.I.E.L.D hadn't offered to keep his identity a secret, she probably wouldn't even have been able to talk to him without stuttering.

Without fearing his anger. Without being repulsed by the monster he was.

Suddenly, he wasn't feeling that good.

* * *

Maya was really bored.

She knew that the helicarrier wasn't going to be having rave parties, but did it have to be this.. silent? And the wing in which she was given her little room was totally uninhabited. Were they purposely creeping her out?

If there was one thing Maya couldn't bear, it was boredom. Thats why Maya's room and office were the way they were. Colourful and unconventional. She may be in one place for a day or a decade, but her space was _her_ space. She liked to be creative with it.

She sat on her little jute settee in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, and looked at herself. She knew she wasn't as fair as most women in this part of the world. Her hair was a plain brown, unlike the flaming red hair of that agent with the russian name. Sighing, she set down the brush. She wished she looked more exotic or stunning. She had nice eyes but otherwise wasn't very noticeable.

She wondered what had gotten into her. It had been a long time since she was felt so critical, so self conscious. Was it because of her handsome, adorable patient?

Like a child putting his hand in a cookie jar, she felt both guilty and thrilled when she thought about Bruce. She knew she shouldn't but couldn't stop herself from dwelling on his face, his broad shoulders, his gentlemanly behaviour. She had never been so aware of any man before. Even playing video games with him seemed like a roller coaster ride on her nerves.

What could he have possibly done that even his name was too much to reveal?

She wondered what he was hiding.

* * *

Bruce was hiding his head under the pillows.

His unusually exciting day had left him feeling distinctly unsettled. His mind was crammed with millions of things. And even the peace and quiet of his room had been invaded.

Someone was playing a very loud rock song.

Rock? Here at the Helicarrier? Even the funeral march would seem too cheerful in this place.

Bruce tried ignoring it. It wasn't _very_ loud if your head was under the pillows. Maybe if he stuffed some cotton in his ears too... No, it didn't help. It was coming from too close by. That was what was even more puzzling. Wasn't his dormitory in an isolated wing?

Finally Bruce gave up. He had to go and put a stop to this nonsense.

He walked out of his room and strode into the long, narrow corridor of the east wing. He had only passed a couple of rooms to his left before he identified the room from where the infernal noise was coming.

He knocked once. Twice. Thrice. No response. The damn music was muffling his knocks. Feeling more than a little bugged, he started banging the door hard.

Finally, the door clicked open. Fully prepared to vent his ire, Bruce opened his mouth to speak. But then he saw who opened the door, and his mouth gaped open for another reason altogether.

It was Maya.

She was wearing an over sized T-shirt.

And nothing else.


End file.
